| Michigan hunt Day 1- Nov. 3, 2004
My Michigan Hunt-November 3-7 2004
5:00am Nov. 3- I awoke to the alarm clock blaring in my ear after a simple dinner with friends turned into 14 jack and cokes and a massive blackout. Mr. Scary was hovering over me in my room just waiting for me to regain consciousness so that he could begin his onslaught. Fuck you scary…SNOOZE. SNOOZE. SNOOZE. At 5:30 I finally rise to the bell with the mysterious guilt beginning to set in. Suffice it to say that I was a bit “offensive to anyone within earshot” at the bar with my roommates.
As I slowly began to come to I realized that I needed to get to the airport as soon as possible as my flight was leaving in 2.5 hours. I jump into my new rig with my roommate Pete and start blazing a trail to John Wayne. At curbside I jumped out, grabbed my bag, backpack, and bow case and proceeded to the Southwest ticket counter at a rapid pace. After cutting in line I demanded my tickets for my direct flight to Detroit. The lady behind the counter looked at me like I was insane.
I repeated myself:
Anello- “Dan Anello….A-N-E-L-L-O…A-N-E-L-L-O…What? Do you have fucking wax in your ears??”.
Ticket Lady- “Sir I can hear you….and smell you. Northwest flies direct to Detroit, not us. NEXT!”
Anello- “Oh, ok, that’s what I thought. My assistant must have given me….ummm. Bye”
Yeah. That’s right. I went to the wrong ticket counter. Apparently that type of behavior is frowned upon as I had security coming for me.
Security Guy- “Sir, do you need some help? Are you ok to fly?”
Anello- “Yeah I’m fine….it’s ok, I am not flying today…just riding”
Security Guy- laughing- “ok, want some help with those bags?”
Anello- “You bet, thanks bud”
Anyways, I was on the plane on time and got all of my shit checked in correctly(which is a bit of a pain when checking a firearm). I sat down in my aisle seat and was out the entire flight. Three hours and forty five minutes of bliss. It was great.
Upon arrival I headed for the baggage claim and met Gradstein. For those of you who do not know Grady(as we call him) he can be described as 5 feet 7 inches of piss and vinegar. He is an old fraternity brother of mine from the UOP days and when we get together we drink like we are back in the house molesting freshman(girls….you assholes). I saw that he was sporting a new prison pussy, which is relatively ironic because he couldn’t grow facial hair until he was 25. He also had a few beers in the car ready for me for the hour drive to his property. Alas, I began to feel normal again.
We got to the house and immediately headed out to the stands so that I could get acclimated to the area that I would be sitting. As we approached Grady froze in front of me and slowly pointed to the bait pile that is near the stand that I would be sitting in. There was a button buck feeding right in front of us no more than 25 yards away. The buck turned and looked at us and slowly trotted off as if to say “I’ll be back bitches. I immediately was filled with visions of a successful hunt.
We wandered around a bit before heading into town to purchase my license and tags. Tomorrow I was to be in that very same stand awaiting the arrival of my first whitetail. I was ready.
Last edited by Anello; Nov-09-2004 at 03:09 PM.
Reason: title change
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